Has died from out men’s listless hearts and ears
These many years.
Its tides will roll, its suns will rise and set,
When mine, through twilight portals of regret,
Has passed to quench its pallid, parting light
In rayless night,
While o’er my place oblivion’s tide will sweep
To whelm my deeds in silence dark and deep,
The triumphs and the failures, ill and good,
Beneath its flood.